I'm trying to make a push on my novel manuscript right now, and adjust to the new pressures of not working (oh yes, there are pressures --- do I nap now? Or nap later?), so I'm finding I don't have too much to say. Even the reading is going slowly, though possibly this has something to do with being midway through three books at once:
Apologize, Apologize! by Elizabeth Kelly, about a dysfunctional wealthy family that pushes the boundaries on quirky. I don't want to say too much else about this book as I'm only halfway through, and much of what I want to say constitutes spoilers. And I hate spoilers, and so do you. (Or you should.)
The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai. It is taking me forever to read this, even though I really, really admire what I've read so far. I think I'm feeling reluctant because I decided I had to read it when I was trying to prepare for my Blue Metropolis panel on India and Pakistan. There's a part of me that always drags my heels with mandatory reading. What this means is that I have yet to finish a book by a so-called Indian writer, unless you count my own (which I don't).
Then there's Concluding, by Henry Green, which is the most unexpectedly riveting of the bunch. I mostly stick to contemporary fiction these days but this book fell into my hands and so far I'm loving it, though I'm keeping it strictly to bedtime reading because I kind of want to draw it out. It's set at a boarding school, and so far there are girls named Mary, Merode, Moira, and Marion (never mind Miss Marchbanks) and I can tell them all apart! This is kind of a triumph for me (and, I think, a good point in favour of Henry Green). I can't tell you the misery I suffered at Tolkein's hands with Sauron/Saruman.
Usually what happens when I'm reading too many books is that one will surge ahead, one will slowly, slowly finish, and one will completely fall to the wayside --- but I think I'm going to see all of these through.